Ballad of the Iron Teutonic Man

In the quiet fields where the wild winds roam,
Stood a humble village, a simple home.

Verse 1:
The dawn would break on fields of rye,
Underneath the somber sky.
Farmers worked with calloused hands,
Tending crops and fertile lands.

Verse 2:
But far away, beyond the hills,
A shadow stirred with iron wills.
The Teutonic Man, forged in steel,
With pounding steps no soul could feel.

Chorus:
Oh, Iron Man, so cold and grim,
You crushed our hopes on every whim.
Our barns lay bare, our rivers ran red,
Our village mourned the life you bled.

Verse 3:
He marched with thunder, fierce and wild,
A metal beast, no mercy mild.
The fields were trampled, the trees did fall,
And silence claimed our village small.

Chorus:
Oh, Iron Man, so cold and grim,
You crushed our hopes on every whim.
Our barns lay bare, our rivers ran red,
Our village mourned the life you bled.